When Liv and the two mages returned to the great hall, the footmen were just clearing away the last of the midday meal. Liv ran her thumb over the polished piece of Aluthet'Staia set into the ring on her finger; now that she was an apprentice, did that mean that three mages had walked into the hall? The thought made her smile, and she tried to walk a little straighter so that her master wouldn’t think badly of her.

“Excellent,” Baron Summerset remarked, leaning back in his chair. “Let us resolve this matter. First - the question of whether the mage guild is legally capable of speaking on Miss Brodbeck’s behalf. Master Grenfell, Magis Jurian, is Liv Brodbeck, or is she not, a member of your guild? Yes or no, please.”

“Yes,” Master Jurian said, clearly. “With her consent, I have taken this girl as my apprentice.” He placed his left hand on her shoulder.

“This is nothing but a technicality,” Mayor Cooper sputtered. “I object.”

“First of all,” Jurian said, “neither the office of the mayor, nor any other guild, nor even Baron Summerset, has any authority over who the mages’ guild chooses to accept or reject as a member. That is entirely an internal matter, as it is for every other guild in the kingdom. Certainly, the Hall of Bricklayers and Masons would never permit interference in regulating their own membership, would they Master Cooper?”

The mayor’s face flushed, and Lady Julianne turned to regard him evenly. “That is a fair question, Mayor. Would you?”

“Of course not,” Alban Cooper answered, gruffly. “But our apprentices are not taken on a whim, over a meal. They earn their positions with hard work, and are held to strict standards.”

“I also hold my apprentice to strict standards,” Jurian agreed, with a smile. “Which is one of the reasons I saw fit to accept Apprentice Brodbeck. In fact, over a meal, she has learned to cast her first spell. I doubt many other apprentices in the kingdom could do the same.”

“Learning a spell is no quick process,” the baron broke in. “When my father taught me to use our hereditary word of power, it took me months to master the incantations.”

“We are prepared to prove the claim,” Jurian said. “If it is in doubt.”

“Proceed,” Baron Henry instructed.

It took only a few moments for the castle guards to bring in a target from the armory, consisting of straw woven and bound into concentric circles, affixed to a tripod of wood to hold it about the height of a grown man’s chest. The guards placed it just inside the door to the great hall, and Liv was told to stand alone at the foot of the high table, facing the target. At Mayor Cooper’s insistence, to be certain there was no aid or interference, both Master Grenfell and Magis Jurian were forced to stand off to the side, leaving Liv to juggle her crutch and her open bestiary.

It would have been much more convenient if she was confident in recalling the entire incantation, but no matter how much the word itself paced restlessly at the back of her mind, the rest of the phrase had not stuck in quite the same way. Liv supposed it made sense; some things were a great deal more difficult to scrub off a cast iron skillet than others, and it seemed foolish to assume words of power all behaved the same.

“This is ridiculous,” Mayor Cooper scoffed, as Liv struggled to hold the book open.

“It isn’t the girl’s fault her ankle is broken,” Lady Julianne shot back. “But I agree, this is ridiculous. Archibald, hold the book for her.”

“Me?” For the first time in Liv’s entire life, the first footman lost his composure in front of the family. “But it is magic, m’lady,” he protested.

“It is perfectly safe,” Magis Jurian called from the wall at the side of the hall, where he’d been exiled for the moment. “Tell him, Kazimir.”

Master Grenfell flinched. “The danger is not extreme,” he said. “I do not believe it likely you will be injured, First Footman.”

With a great huff of displeasure, Archibald descended from where he’d been standing close to the high table, approached Liv, and took the book from her, holding it out as far distant from his body as he could.

“A little lower, please?” Liv asked. Everyone always seemed to forget how small she was. Archibald lowered the book. Liv closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and held it. When she finally exhaled, she opened her eyes, and looked down at the page.

“Celet’co Scelis’o’Mae!” she sang out, loud and clear, raising her right hand and thrusting it at the straw target. Once again, the words moved up through her body, from her belly into her chest, rumbling as they came, like peals of thunder in a storm. As it had upstairs, a glistening shard of ice, long and sharp, coalesced in the air in front of Liv’s hand, floating there as if held by some invisible assistant.

Only this time, the power roared through her like the Aspen River during flood. More and more ice built up in front of her, until the spell had created more of a jagged spear or sword than a dagger. Liv thrust her hand forward, trying to cut off the flow of magic before it grew completely out of her control.

The frozen missile streaked forward, piercing the target with such force that it split in half, pieces of broken wood and tufts of straw falling to either side. The shard of ice, in the meanwhile, buried itself in one of the two wooden doors that hung at the entrance to the hall, and with a great crack, the wood shattered outward. Liv, exhausted, fell, and would have hit the floor if Archibald had not dropped the book and caught her up in his arms.

“I believe,” Magis Jurian said, striding forward, “that we have sufficiently proved my Apprentice’s talent. Liv Brodbeck is a member of the mage’s guild, and she will attend the College of Vædic Grammar when she comes of age.”

“The girl is clearly a mage,” Summerset said, with a scowl. “I will deduct the damage from her wages.”

“It was you who insisted on the demonstration,” Lady Julienne pointed out.

“Moving forward,” the baron said. “Yes, as a member of the mage’s guild, it is appropriate for Magis Jurian to speak on her behalf.”

“And, in fact,” her master continued, “It is my obligation as her master, given that she is not of age. I request that Apprentice Brodbeck be excused from the remainder of these proceedings.”

“Why?” Mayer Cooper asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I am going to speak now, in detail,” Jurian said, “of the contract between the drovers’ guild and the Eld. I will be unable to avoid speaking of the girl’s family. I would spare her that.”

“We all know her circumstances,” Baron Summerset declared. “I hardly think anything you say will be a surprise to her - she knows she’s a bastard.” Liv had regained her feet by this point, and thought that the baron’s wife did not look pleased with his words.

“As you insist, then,” Jurian said. He reached into his coat and withdrew a sheaf of papers. “I have here a copy of the agreement between the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers and the Eld of the North. The contract specifies use of two specific words of power, in conjunction, for the exclusive purpose of cold storage. Is my apprentice being accused of using her magic to preserve meat, Master Cooper?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“No,” Alban Cooper admitted, his face even more red than before.

“Has she been selling enchantments to create cold cellars?” Jurian asked. This time, the mayor simply shook his head. “Then Apprentice Brodbeck is not in breach of the guild’s rights,” he concluded, raising his hands.

Summerset looked to the mayor. “If you have wasted my time, Alban, I am going to be cross. What do you have to say to this?”

“I would ask the baron to at the very least issue an injunction,” Cooper said. “Enforceable by the sheriff. That she cannot, from this day, use her magic to those ends exclusive to the guild.”

The baron shrugged. “That is actually somewhat reasonable, Magis. She demonstrably has the ability to break the law whenever she wishes.”

“As do any of us!” Master Grenfell finally stepped forward. “Even your footmen, my lord. Yet we do not judge an innocent before a crime has been committed.”

“Not any of our people wield magic that can do that,” Baron Henry said, gesturing to the broken door.

“I must apologize to you, Apprentice,” her master said, turning to Liv. “I had not wanted to speak of this here and now.” He turned back to the high table. “Such an injunction could not bind Apprentice Brodbeck in any case,” Jurian said. “Were you informed, Master Cooper, which northern family negotiated these rights with the guild?”

“No,” Cooper admitted. “That information was not considered relevant to this matter.”

“It is vitally relevant,” Jurian insisted. “The guild’s contract is with the House of Syvä.”

“...and that means?” Baron Summerset asked.

“This contract,” Jurian continued, “was negotiated on behalf of his house by Valtteri Ka Auris, thirteen years ago.”

The baron looked no less confused, but Archibald gasped. “This name means something to you?” Summersett asked his footman.

“My lord,” Archibald said, glancing at Liv before returning his eyes to the high table. “Thirteen years ago, a delegation from over the mountains enjoyed the hospitality of this castle for three nights before continuing to the lowlands. The leader of that delegation was named Valtteri Ka Auris.”

Liv felt suddenly dizzy, and scrambled over to the nearest table, where she sat on the bench, letting her crutch fall to the floor.

“I was at Coral Bay at the time,” Baron Henry said. “But my father wrote of it. I had long since forgotten the name.”

“Let me be explicitly clear,” Master Jurian said. “That contract does not relinquish any rights of a member of the House of Syvä to wield their own word of power within the kingdom. In fact, the contract reaffirms that the rights of the house supersede those of the guild. In short, my lord, the contract guarantees that you cannot restrict the rights of a descendent of that house to use their inherited magic.”

“That girl,” Mayor Cooper shouted, “is not a member of an Elden House! She is the illegitimate child of a cook!”

“I believe that cook is still employed in this castle,” Jurian said. “Perhaps we should ask her to come up here to tell us the name of Apprentice Brodbeck’s father.”

“Enough of this,” Baron Summerset broke in. “You are grasping at straws, Cooper. You brought me to this for arbitration, and now I find that you have even less knowledge of the particulars than the mages’ guild? A guild that was not even involved in the original negotiation? We’re not here to conduct an inquest into the girl’s parentage, nor could her mother prove anything, if we asked her. You brought this to me for arbitration? Very well, this is my judgment. The matter is dismissed. If you don’t like it, you can appeal to the duke, but I strongly recommend against it. He won’t be as patient as I am.”

“Yes, my lord,” the mayor said, after a moment. “If I may be excused? The drovers’ guild will be waiting for my message.”

“You may,” the baron said, and stood up. “I believe we are finished here, sheriff. Mages.” He offered his arm to his wife, and Lady Julienne accepted. In short order, the great hall was empty, save for the three mages. Grenfell and Jurian approached the bench where Liv was slumped. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days. She wanted to ask her mother about a name.

“Forced to cast twice in one day,” Master Grenfell grumbled. “She hasn’t even been practicing for a month. This is all too soon.”

“Come along, Liv,” Jurian said, offering her a hand up. “Let us get you to your room. Kazamir, I presume you know the way?”

Liv allowed herself to be hauled to her feet, and accepted the crutch from Master Grenfell. The older mages gathered up her books, and carried them for her. “Do you know who my father is?” she asked them, once they’d passed out of the public areas of the house and entered the servants’ hall.

“I suspect that I do,” Master Jurian said. “But I am not certain. I would only be making a guess, based on the evidence available to me. That is a conversation you should have with your mother, Apprentice. I would prefer not to interfere. In any event, we have a great deal to do before I leave.”

“Livy!” At the end of the hall, her hands covered in flour, Mama stood, her eyes moving between the two men standing to either side of her daughter.

“Miss Brodbeck,” Master Grenfell said. “Allow me to introduce you to Magis Jurian of Carinthia. He has accepted your daughter as his apprentice.”

“Does that mean the trouble with the guilds is over?” Liv’s mother asked. “Why don’t you all come into the kitchen,” she said, stepping back to make way. “There’s no room in Liv’s room for all of you, and you look like you could use a pot of tea.”

Grenfell held himself awkwardly, and Liv tried to recall whether she had ever actually seen him in the kitchen before. It wasn’t proper for a member of the family - or their court - to be spending time in the servants’ quarters, any more than it would be proper for Sophie to be caught lounging around the hot spring baths.

Jurian, on the other hand, sat down at the same table where the servants took their meals, utterly at ease. “Thank you, Mistress,” he said to Gretta, accepting a cup of steaming tea. “Talking so much is dry work.”

Liv hadn’t realized how cold her fingers were until she had them wrapped around her own cup. Instead of putting it down on the table after she took a sip, she continued to cradle it in her hands, absorbing the warmth. “Am I going to feel cold every time I use that word?” she asked.

“Hard to say,” Master Grenfell said. “It is not one that I have ever witnessed, until you. Something for us to keep an eye on. The next time you use it, you will take careful notes immediately on everything you feel.”

“This, too, is part of how we learn,” Master Jurian said. “We try things, we see what happens, and then we record the results. Not only for ourselves, but for our colleagues. Even after we are gone, they can learn from our mistakes.” He took another sip. “As to your question, Miss Brodbeck, yes, I believe the matter is settled. The baron has made his judgement, and it would be foolish on their part to take this to the Duke of Courland. He has had a good relationship with the guild since he attended college at Coral Bay as a young man.”

“That’s good,” Liv’s mother said, visibly relaxing.

“Once Liv has had a moment to catch her breath,” Jurian said, “I would like to take her into town, if you do not mind.”

“What for?” Mama looked Jurian up and down. “She has her afternoon duties to attend to, still.”

“I understand that,” the mage replied. “But I cannot remain here long, and I want to see your daughter properly situated with everything she will need before I leave. Is there a bookseller in town?”

“On High Street,” Master Grenfell answered. “I imagine your apprentice will know where.”

“And a place to purchase mana-infused food?” Master Jurian asked.

“That will be more difficult,” Grenfell said. “There are two people who supply the baron with that sort of food, for special occasions, but there aren’t enough mages here to support a shop the year round. For herbs, nuts, berries and the like you would need to go downriver to Fairford, and ask for Aunt Rhea.”

“She’s the local witch,” Liv supplied, helpfully.

Gretta huffed. “She isn’t a witch,” the old woman said. “She’s a midwife, and she grows the best garlic around.”

“As to the meat,” Master Grenfell said, “Apprentice Brodbeck has already met the best hunter in town.”

“Master Forester?” Liv guessed. “If we go visit him, I could make sure his daughter is well, also.”

“Good,” Jurian said. “Before we go, a matter of some delicacy. “Mistress Brodbeck, it seems clear to me that your daughter’s father is one of the Eld. I am not asking you to name him, but can you confirm for me that the man in question was full-blooded? Not partially human?”

“Yes,” Mama said, after a long moment. “Liv is half Eld, half human.”

“Excellent. And I imagine your local chirurgeon has told you that she is not growing as fast as she should,” Jurian continued.

“And my bones,” Liv said. “Master Chushing says I have brittle bones. That’s why my ankle broke.”

“Let us see what we can do about that, shall we?” Jurian said. “Kazamir, you’ve never gone over the mountains to Al'Fenthia, have you?”

“I have not,” Master Grenfell admitted.

“Did you know,” Master Jurian said, turning to Liv, “that when I went to Al'Fenthia, I noticed that all of the Eld eat food grown or hunted from near a rift? Mages do, when we can get it, because it helps to replenish us, but I have a theory, and you are going to help me test it.”

“What do I have to do?” Liv asked.

“You need to eat,” her master answered. “And keep careful notes. Let us see what we can do about helping you grow properly, Apprentice.”